Innocents of Ryloth
by ruth baulding
Summary: Just for fun: the CW episode, as recounted by the main protagonists.
1. Chapter 1

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><em><strong>Scene 1<strong>_

_High in orbit over Ryloth's northern hemisphere. The hangar bay of the Republic military assault cruiser Peerless._

The planet Ryloth – a lovely gem of swirling muted colors, a prosperous and inviting island in the endless sea of stars and the void, an oasis in which many centuries of Twi'lek colonists had made for themselves and their descendants a simple, harmonious life amid a dreamlike landscape of rock sculptures and exotic orchards. In the Force, the planet appeared as a complex, shimmering sphere – a trembling life now held imprisoned in a crushing grip. Darkness and fear seized the world and held it in a pitiless grasp; a million voices moaned in despair, weak from starvation and cruelty…

"General."

…and the dark hand squeezed a little tighter, perhaps sensing the approaching invasion force, unwilling to relinquish its hold on the valuable prize. Sought to wring out every last drop of wealth, of blood and strength, from the captive orb – desiring only to possess, to plunder and devour…

"General Kenobi. _Sir."_

Obi Wan opened his eyes. The clone Commander Cody stood at attention before him, face conveniently hidden behind the opaque visor of his helmet, but exuding a certain baffled exasperation nonetheless.

"Greed is the true enemy here, Cody. We must break Watt Tambor's stranglehold on this world before he destroys it. Greed ultimately consumes that which it seeks to contain."

"Yes, sir," the faithful Cody responded automatically. He passed over the tidbit of Jedi wisdom without comment. To him, the planet was a strategic locale in a military campaign, the engagement to come just another day of business as usual. If his general chose to see it as a spiritual struggle between the principalities of light and dark, well, then… his eloquent half-shrug said that it was none of his business. "The men are on board and ready for your signal, sir."

"Very good, Cody. Stand by."

The clone commander saluted and turned, as prosaic and efficient as ever, to join his identical brothers in their identical battle armor inside the nearby troop transport standing ready for deployment as soon as the cruiser broke the planet's atmosphere. A slight tremble of turbulence in the deck underfoot indicated that they had already entered the ionosphere.

A broad, deep ripple in the Force announced the arrival of Mace Windu, who strode across the hanger's dull durasteel floor at a long, measured pace. His dark face was focused to a burning intensity; a few deck hands and mechanics who happened to glance up at the formidable Jedi master as he passed went scuttling away in the opposite direction, like hooved animals fleeing over the savannah in the face of an impending thunderstorm.

Obi Wan considered his respected colleague thoughtfully. Only five years ago he himself might have flinched in the face of Windu's brooding power – but the war had changed everything and everyone, even the Jedi. One could sense it in relationships, conversations, in eyes and voices, and even – or perhaps _especially- _ in swordsmanship. Mace had dedicated himself to Vapaad, his own masterful and idiosyncratic saber style, which brought Form VI as close to Dark side flirtation as could be imagined. Only one so deeply rooted in the true Force could play on the lethal edge between light and dark without falling; Mace had made of himself in battle the very expression of just retribution, of the wrath of Light. It was still pure…and good…but there was a cold undercurrent to it. One seldom saw Mace's white flash of a smile anymore. Perhaps never at all.

"General Kenobi." The Korun Master would use only the formal military title within earshot of the troops. He lowered his rich, resonant voice to a near growl. "I have just spoken with young Skywalker. I have advised him to employ a less _dramatic_ strategy to consolidate our control of local space."

Obi Wan carefully concealed a smile. He felt obliged neither to defend nor to censure his former Padawan's actions. Anakin had, mere hours ago, destroyed the Separatist blockade over Ryloth by single handedly piloting his crippled flagship into the Trade Federation core ship, destroying both vessels in a spectacular conflagration. The victory had been decisive, even if its young hero had to be rescued from an escape pod floating amid the immense debris field.

"We will require a more _cautious_ approach in order to liberate the planet with ground troops," Windu continued.

Was that a compliment? Obi Wan wondered. Or an admonition? He was painfully aware of his own growing reputation as a brilliant and cunning tactician. Victory had practically fallen into his lap in the last few engagements; but he was personally quite sure that his success stemmed from the thousand and one bitter lessons learned playing – and losing – at sabaac against Qui Gon Jinn all those years ago. He was also painfully aware that more than one of his fellow Councilors suspected Anakin of exerting a subversive influence on his former master, encouraging bold, risky, aggressive moves hitherto uncharacteristic in the older man. And who was to say that they were entirely wrong?

"We will need to secure both hemispheres. According to our intelligence reports, Tambor is occupying the capitol city himself. The Separatist supply lines are established in the southern desert regions," Mace went on, apparently satisfied that his message had been duly understood. "We must strike on both fronts at once."

"Our first trick will be getting our troops on the ground," Obi Wan observed, focus already narrowing to the very present moment and his own impending task. The war had taught him that lesson even more harshly than all his prior years of training. Mind on the moment.

"If we take the city of Nabat first, we will have our landing spot," Mace Windu declared confidently. He had already formulated a plan. A natural leader with a long tenure on thr Jedi Council, he had taken to the demands of wartime strategy like a fish to water.

And that was that, Obi Wan reflected privately. So simple: they would just stroll in and _take_ the city of Nabat: a heavily fortified, nearly inaccessible, and fully occupied citadel near the equator. Do or do not. There is no try.

"Well, it's time to meet the natives," was all he said aloud. He stepped gracefully backward and up into the waiting gunship, and the armored blast panels slid shut behind him with a determined and final thud.


	2. Chapter 2

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><strong>Scene 2<strong>

_A small squadron of gunships issues out of Peerless' hangar bay and rockets through the upper atmosphere of Ryloth in loose formation. Inside the main cabin of the lead gunship, dim light filters through closed blast panels._

Commander Cody stood directly behind the General, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. His helmet was tucked neatly under his left arm while his right hand held one of the overhead grips for stability as the ship rocked and swayed through Ryloth's skies, buffeted by wind and the pressure differentials left in the wake of the cruiser's ion drives.

The Jedi, of course, stood on the bucking, tilting deck at perfect ease, like a waterbird serenely riding a swell. At such cramped close quarters Cody could easily pick out every pock and scorch mark on the General's partial armor, every scratch on the emblem of th winged flame emblazoned on his shoulder plate, every one of the few premature grey hairs standing out in his beard. Cody was technically only twelve years old, and had no grey to show for all his harrowing months of experience in the war, but he knew the routine well enough to know what came next. _This_ was the part where Kenobi lectured them about the moral component of what they were doing.

"We need to remember why we are here," Kenobi was saying. "We came to aid the Twi'Leks, not destroy their homes. Cody."

Ah, great. The Jedi was handing it off to him. The glint in Kenobi's eye as he stepped back to allow Cody to take up the front position told the clone commander that it was a purposeful maneuver. Stang. That mind-reading thing was unnerving. Cody would never get used to it.

"That means we'll be taking it back the hard way," he told the boys. "Minimal destruction with blasters and droid poppers only. " He turned a baleful eye on Wooley, the rookie of the team. "No rockets or detonators. Check your aim. Keep an eye out for locals. Am I understood?"

"Sir yes sir," his brothers all chanted in unison.

Cody grabbed an overhead support again as the transport jumped like a stone skipping across a pond. A dull boom sounded distantly above, in the vicinity of the cruisers. A warning went off in the back of his mind. The echo of the sound, like thunder, spoke volumes to his specialized ear: heavy cannon, long distance auto-det high energy rounds. But then, it was only natural for the Seps to take a few pot-shots at the capital ships as they passed overhead. He turned and watched Waxer and Boil divest themselves of several extraneous and now prohibited weapons.

"If we're here to free the tail-heads, the least they can do is stay outta our way," Boil muttered darkly.

Cody glared at the perpetually disgruntled trooper, and risked a careful backward glance at Kenobi. Jedi were big into the tolerance and respect thing, and "tail-head" was not an acceptable epithet in polite company. The General didn't seem perturbed by the rude slur, however. He spent a lot of time with the clones nowadays, after all. And Cody happened to know that despite his well-bred manner, Kenobi could – on rare occasion, under extreme duress – dish it out with the best of them. On Anoth, for example, in the driving rain and mud, when that time delayed mine had taken the bridge out from under the squadron's feet and landed the surviving members of the Republic vanguard in a neat ambush, Cody had distinctly heard the Jedi consign both the Seppie tactical droid and every SBD in the area to a lingering destruction in the nine hells. He smiled at the memory of Kenobi simultaneously deflecting blasterfire with his lightsaber in a desperate whirl, and employing language varied and colorful enough to make a Besalisk blush.

The gunship lurched violently to one side and another explosion blossomed in the air directly behind them. The blast shield held but the transport shuddered like an epileptic womprat and dropped a sickening thirty meters before leveling out. Cody noted that even the Jedi had grabbed a handhold for support. He and his brothers all rammed their helmets in place on instinct.

They were under attack. The Separatists' long range cannon were _good,_ that was for sure. Somewhere overhead a howling roar ripped open the sky and a grinding current of superheated air blasted them downward again. Emergency thrusters being fired up above – One of the cruisers had been hit, and hard. Anything that could get through their shields at this distance was a serious threat.

"Starboard!" Kenobi shouted, suddenly, for no apparent reason.

The pilot had the good sense – and genetic conditioning – to obey without question, and a split second later a round exploded on their left, exactly in their line of flight before they had swerved aside.

"Kriffin' psychic son of a vetch," Wooley muttered through the helmet comlink system.

"Shut up, rookie," Cody snapped at him. If the Jedi's weird powers could save their necks, then the least the clones could do was not complain.

"Drop altitude!" the General barked at the pilot. Diving lower might take them under the trajectory of the cannon.

The transport swooped and dodged, its counterparts following as best they could in a mad game of tag. The comm. unit mounted overhead sputtered and then spewed out a flickering life-size image of General Windu, who stood before them in ghostly blue effigy.

"We can't risk landing the bigger transports until you take out those guns." The hologram figure spoke directly to General Kenobi.

"Pull back," the General responded evenly. "We'll take care of it!" He had to shout to be heard over the scream of the engines and the cacophony of the bombardment outside.

Windu's shimmering image blinked out and they tore onward, lower and lower, toward the slopes of the jagged rocks surrounding the city of Nabat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><strong>Scene 3<strong>

_Surface of Ryloth. Gunships descend into a Yarbanna tree grove on the slopes of the rocky mountains surrounding Nabat._

They leapt out of the open hatches and hit the ground running. In the Force, the tang of the clones' adrenaline was like a bracing slap – it propelled them forward on their officers' heels with driving energy. They dodged among the bare trees, seeking cover behind the broad trunks and scattered boulders. There was little underbrush and few fallen leaves underfoot; the rocky soil was swept clean by a perpetual cool wind blowing over the cliffs and jagged hills ahead.

Obi Wan crouched behind a large, rough-hewn stone – a far flung fragment of the mountains beyond – and a pressed a gloved hand to the hard earth, taking a moment to breathe in this place, its essential tone and rhythm in the Force. A Jedi's mission began as soon as his feet touched the soil of a new planet. Qui Gon had taught him this long ago. But nowadays, it seemed, no sooner had he set foot on a world than he was spearheading an attack, destroying everything in sight and moving much too fast to pay attention to the subtle currents in the Force left behind by historical and geological memory.

Now he felt hard ground, deep sky, the thrumming knot of trees. Far distant, the Force twisted and churned: the native Twi'Leks in their distress, captive or starving. And a strange void, that peculiar signature rippling effect with no living source at its heart. He knew it all too well: droids. Lots and lots of battle droids. He had learned to diagnose their physical presence through their spiritual absence. Perhaps it was a dark gift.

"Wonderful," he grumbled.

"What's that, sir?" Cody had darted up and now squatted down beside him.

Afetr so many years spent teaching Anakin, he still found it strange for his assigned second in command to have to ask for his thoughts. He also had to remember that Cody couldn't feel the droids ahead the way he could. The clone was for all practical purposes blind to the glaringly obvious. "They've posted at least two squadrons of sentry droids around the perimeter," he explained.

Cody scanned the cliff face through his macrobinoculars, seeking sensory confirmation of this statement.

"D'ye think they've – " the commander began.

In answer, Obi Wan Force-pushed Cody away from the rock, and jumped high in the air himself, a fraction of a second before the first cannon blast reduced their boulder to smithereens. He flipped once or twice in midair and landed nearby, nipping behind a tree trunk and activating his saber.

Laser bolts flew through the sparse orchard, raining down from a fortress bunker carved into the living rock in the cliffs above. The droids had the high ground; by ordinary rules of combat, they would have been accorded the advantage. But they were nothing but standard model battle units, and they were up against a Jedi, so that advantage was a tenuous one at best.

Cody signaled a charge. Clones rushed forward on every side, darting from tree to tree, weaving and ducking as they drove up the slope, returning fire with their blasters and heavy rifles. Blue and red energy packets collided and whizzed through the forest. Trees were shattered and felled; rocks exploded into dangerous shrapnel; bodies tumbled to earth and did not rise again. But still the invaders ran forward, closing the distance to the base of the stronghold.

Obi Wan sank deep into the Force, finding his own still center in the battle. The war had changed him, too. Formerly a devoted student of Form III, a saber style embodying all the virtues of patient defense and protection, he had now found a new and more profound expression of his purpose in Form VI. Since the beginning of the conflict he had wielded his saber in a deadly, personalized version of Soresu. He made of himself the eye of the storm. Drawing in the Force, he descended through the chaos without and the surging invisible currents within until he found that silent, central fulcrum.

And then he sprang into motion.

The bright flash of his blade became the focus of the battle; laser fire converged on him as he led the charge up the hill. He deflected every blast, inviting and then repelling shots in a blur of perpetual motion, dancing through the murderous storm with implacable calm. The hum of the energy blade as it swept through the air drowned out all other sounds – soon he had gathered the living Force about him in a tight sphere. He no longer saw the shots coming. He was simply there before them.

Ghost Company reached the cover of the boulers at the orchard's edge. A short open run of fifty meters separated them from the base of the stony promontory in which the cave-like bunker was situated. The curved heads of battle droids appeared over the parapet, and a floor-mounted cannon fired off a few warning shots in the general direction of the would-be usurpers, a pointed reminder not to cross the exposed space that still lay between them.

Obi Wan could cross that distance unscathed in a few heartbeats – but he could not protect all the clones behind him.

"That bunker's gonna be a problem, General!" Cody called out, hunkering down beside him.

_Yes. A problem. For them, _ the Jedi smirked to himself, allowing just a hint of his tightly controlled battle energy to surface in his conscious thoughts.

"Leave the bunker to me – bring your men in on my signal," he ordered. Then, "Droid poppers, Cody." The narrow opening between the parapet and the ceiling overhang in the droid outpost was wide enough to admit the small spherical EMP grenades. Of course, it would be impossible to successfully launch or throw one up there from this angle, unless…

Cody chuckled devilishly and tossed an activated "popper" far out into the open air. It was child's play for Obi Wan to catch the thing in midair with the Force, to gently nudge its flight directly into the open window of the bunker. A brief flash of light, and the heads of the sentry droids convulsed and then disappeared as their owners collapsed behind the protective wall.

"Got 'em!" Cody enthused, already throwing the next grenade high in the air. Obi Wan held out a hand and gracefully altered its course, sending it sailing toward the next pair of sentries. Within minutes, there were no more guards on active duty.

"Ghost Company! Let's move!" the commander shouted, and the clones surged forward as one to lay siege to the citadel's outer defenses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><strong>Scene <em>4<em>**

_Inside the outer wall of Nabat_

Commander Cody found the General at their pre-arranged rendezvous. He slowed down just a tad, making a private assessment first. He liked Kenobi well enough, and grew more comfortable with him the longer they were in the field- but in the final analysis, there was no figuring a Jedi master.

The General seemed to be back to normal. He was standing with both arms crossed over his chest, a posture Cody had come to interpret as either relaxed thoughtfulness or ironic disapprobation. The trick was guessing which one it meant at the moment – but either way it was a distinct improvement. The lightsaber was back in place on the belt, and the air wasn't charged with unbearable tension.

The thing was, Cody admitted to himself, a Jedi could be just a little _creepy. _He glanced over his shoulder at the plume of dark smoke billowing up into the cold, clear sky from the citadel's main gates. The massive durasteel-reinforced stone panels were lying in ruinous disarray atop the crushed and burning remnants of a Sep assault tank.

Take that particular scene of devastation, for instance. One minute, Ghost Company had been cautiously approaching the main gates, ready for a prolonged skirmish. Forty-five seconds later, before Cody could fully register what was happening or issue any useful commands, the gates were destroyed and the ground tank posted outside them a heap of smoking scrap. One moment, Kenobi had been right beside him, a fellow soldier, face streaked with dust and sweat, cracking some bad joke about the Seppie "welcoming committee," very much warm and approachable – _human. _The next instant, the Jedi disappeared. Not literally, of course. He was still physically present. It was just this weird thing he did sometimes. Cody had observed the same phenomenon when he caught the General in a meditative state: eyes closed, body relaxed, apparently no longer present in time. That was odd enough. But in the middle of a battle it was downright unnerving. The General would just _disappear-_ there was no other word for it – and suddenly this invisible power would replace him, this maelstrom of primordial energy, like a force of nature unleashed.

He had done just that before the gates. And then he had pounced – flown toward the tank, magically evading the heavy cannon blasts aimed at him. He flew onto the machine's upper deck, saber screaming and blazing, sending droids and droid appendages flying in every direction. A severed head had landed right at Cody's feet. The General cut open the top hatch and dropped inside the assault vehicle like a colwar dropping onto prey in the jungle. The next thing Cody knew, the tank had pivoted 180 degrees and was blasting the heck out of the monumental gates. They cracked and crumbled, sending an avalanche of stone and twisted metal down on the tank. The Jedi had jumped clear at the last second, rolling onto his feet just in time to see the assault vehicle burst into toxic flames and smoke as its fuel reservoirs were punctured.

Cody had got a glimpse of Kenobi's face, right then, and what he had seen was that eerie trace of a smile, that wild untamed battle glory still seething beneath the controlled surface. He decided to give the General some room… to unwind. He divided the men into several taskforces: some to secure the perimeter, some to establish lookout posts, the medics sent to find and tend to their casualties, a group to locate a suitable command base. Cody liked the nitty-gritty, housekeeping side of war. It just felt right.

Now, half an hour later, he was relieved to see that the General had reappeared- the humanity was back. The Jedi just looked tired and dirty and a little bemused. Cody stepped forward and saluted.

"The wall is secure, sir. Are we moving on to the guns?" That was their objective, after all. They could make a beeline for the goal and then throw everything they had at it; or they might resort to subterfuge. You never knew with the Jedi in command.

"We need to know what those droids have in store for us," Kenobi replied, smoothing his beard down. "Send your best men to scout ahead."

"Will do sir. "Cody decided to go himself. He was one of the best men for a recon assignment. "Waxer. Boil," he ordered. "Come with me."

"I guess we're the best," Boil quipped.

_You'd better be,_ Cody thought. _Even the General's a little worried about what we might find up ahead. _ He loosened his blaster in its holster and pressed onward into the center of the city, with his brothers at his back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><strong>Scene 5<strong>

_Beneath the roof of a partially blasted-out structure inside Nabat's precincts._

The domed pagoda made a perfect command center. It was set on a gentle swell of land, a plinth on the center of a park area, which provided good visibility in every direction and sufficient shelter for the relatively delicate comm. equipment. Cody and Wolley had returned from their recon expedition well in advance of 1620 hours…and they had bad news.

"We found the guns," the clone commander said, pointing into the glowing hologrammatic tactical display. "They're in the courtyard here and here." He indictaed a wide circular area, an agora intended for commerce or perhaps political convocations. It was accessible only by traversing the mazelike streets built between the walls of the canyon – potential ambush around every bend. "But there's a complication,"Cody continued, pausing for dramatic emphasis.

A complication _beyond_ the labyrinth of twisting alleys and thoroughfares, Obi Wan amended mentally. Cody had unconsciously adopted the system of private code words he and Anakin had developed over the years. A _problem_ meant bad trouble, while a _complication_ meant very, very bad trouble. He supposed he ought to be grateful that this did not qualiy as a _situation, _ which would indicate unbelievably desperate, ridiculous trouble.

"They've taken the locals hostage and are using them as living shields," Cody revealed. His voice was grim.

So. Once again the Separatists had the advantage because they were willing to break all the rules of engagement, and because they knew that no Jedi general would sacrifice innocent lives to achieve military victory. Obi Wan sighed and crossed his arms. A faint flutter of present danger brushed against his Force awareness; on reflex, he reached out in his mind to their surroundings, casting about for its source – but his intuition discovered nothing, no sentient mind besides that of the easily recognizable clones.' His eyes narrowed._ Recon droid._ Probably a small probe hovering nearby. It might even be on the roof, for all he knew. His hand strayed automatically to his saber hilt, but then he reconsidered.

"The Twi'Leks presence will make this difficult but not impossible," he declared in a slightly raised voice. "I still have a good plan for taking out those guns."

Cody and the tall blue image of Mace Windu, present at the conference via hologram, waited expectantly for him to elaborate. They would have to be disappointed. Were Mace here in person, he would instantly comprehend the reason. The presence of a probe unit meant that his words – all their words – would be reported back to the Separatist command. Obi Wan had tried several times already to sense the enemy leader in the Force, and all he had discovered was that same peculiar nothingness left in the world by artificial, cybernetic personalities. Tambor must have put one of his sophisticated tactical droids in charge. Within minutes, possibly even now if the recon unit was outfitted with a live feed, that tactical droid would know the name of the Republic General leading the attack, and would be downloading a no doubt hefty file on the aforesaid person. Obi Wan imagined that his own file read something like "_Infamous pest. Known for deceptive maneuvers. Shoot on sight."_ But he could turn that expectation to his own advantage.

"Assume nothing," he murmured.

"Pardon, sir?" Cody asked, slightly baffled.

"Getting the villagers out of harm's way is our first priority," Mace Windu said. "I have faith in you, General Kenobi," he added before his hologram blinked out.

Obi Wan shut down the tactical display as well. It was good that he had the other Jedi master's implicit trust, because his brilliant plan was simply to outmaneuver the droid by once again doing the unexpected: using outright aggression rather than deception. The droid's complex strategic projection theorems would predict a ruse, a la Kenobi. Accordingly, to stay ahead of the game, his "ruse" would be to employ no such trickery at all – just bold improvisation, a la Skywalker. Or Jinn. He suppressed a mischievous smile. A Jedi was allowed – on occasion – to play dirtier than dirty.

"Cody, we'll go in with everything we have," he announced. "We must clear those hostages."


	6. Chapter 6

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><strong>Scene 6<strong>

_Republic command base, in the city of Nabat. Clone troops mill about among the fallen chunks of masonry, ready to launch an offensive on the city's central courtyard._

Cody stood, one foot propped on a tumbled bit of wall or roof – something pretty, all carved and smoothed out on one side – and tried every channel available on his gauntlet comm.. array. Nothing. It was way past 1620, and not a word. The men were ready to move out. To go take a shot at those cannon. Cody should have been happy. For reasons best known to himself, the General had decided to do it the straightforward way this time: go in with everything they had. But worry snaked through his gut with sickening persistence, spiraling into a vague dread.

"Are the men set, Cody?" the Jedi asked, hopping lightly down the slope from stone to stone. Then, changing abruptly to a tone of keen personal concern, "What is it?"

Cody about jumped out of his skin. Might have actually done so had his black bodysuit not kept him contained inside. He hadn't uttered a single word about his secret anxiety and his helmet was securely in place, concealing his face entirely. It was that Jedi mind-reading thing again, vape it. But there was no use hemming and hawing in denial, now was there?

"Waxer and Boil are not responding. They never returned from scouting," he explaned succinctly. He knew the General would get all the subtle implications.

Kenobi ran a hand across his chin, frowning. Oh yeah, he understood all right. "That's not like them," he said. "They may have run into trouble."

That response might once have irritated Cody – repeating the obvious wasn't his style. But he was getting to know the Jedi well enough to catch the meaning behind the understated assessment. It meant, _I have exactly the same bad feeling that you do about this, Cody. Waxer and Boil could be trapped, wounded, imprisoned, dead. We can't do anything about it until we get in there; and the fact that they ran into trouble means that we are in for unanticipated problems, too. But we must stay calm and keep a clear head._

Cody nodded in agreement, not really feeling any better but confident that Kenobi would not leave Nabat without at least finding out what fate had befallen his missing brothers. "Sergeant," he barked at Wheeze, who stood a few meters away. "Use the high power transmitter. See if you can reach Waxer or Boil." It was a long shot, but worth a try. They might at least be able to pinpoint the truant clones' position.

"Yes sir."

The General surveyed the area somberly. His eyes rested on each member of Ghost Company in turn. Cody had seen him do that before too – every time they prepared for a dangerous engagement. It was like he was either imprinting them on memory, or else taking responsibility for each one individually. Seemed like a damn fool thing to do – war didn't leave room for sentiment. Or maybe it was part of the General's hokey Jedi religion. There were plenty of things the commander knew he would _never_ understand about that. At any rate, the Jedi's gaze eventually settled on Cody.

"Let's get the rest of the men moving," he said quietly. All but the perimeter guard would accompany them into the citadel's center. "The others will have to catch up." And that was his oblique, off-handed way of telling Cody not to give up hope.

Well, he hadn't given up – not yet.

They marched forward to find the cannon and whatever else lay in wait.


	7. Chapter 7

**Innocents of Ryloth**

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><p><strong>Scene 7<strong>

_The abandoned city of Nabat, built between high, narrow cliffs._

Nabat was empty. Worse than that – it had been gutted. Dust swirled in the empty streets, gathering in forlorn heaps at the edges of fallen brick and stone; the scarred and wounded homes sat abandoned, doors wrenched off hinges and out of sockets, window grates blasted out. Tattered _phreni matelli - _ the banners strung over the city's pathways, decorated with traditional symbols for peace, prosperity, and harmony – dipped and bowed mournfully in the cool wind. Silence reigned.

Obi Wan could feel the troops' coiling unease. The emptiness was eerie, and the lack of any bodies, of any survivors, suggested a scouring so thorough and brutal that no sentient could possibly be behind it. And none was; he was quite sure. The recon team had reported sightings of droids, tanks, cannon, and more droids, all waiting for them in the citadel's central courtyard.

He could also feel the desperate, starving fear of the villagers themselves. Here within the city precincts, it cried out to him incessantly, a steady lamentation that keened through the Force and begged for rescue. At the edge of awareness, the very walls of the canyon still seeped out terror and shock. The narrow confines of each successive alley gave off a faint toxic echo in the Force. He shut it all out from his mind and focused on the task ahead.

"Nothing, sir," the clone commander remarked. His men followed in loose scouting formation, rifles at the ready, heads turning in every direction – anticipating a sniper attack or an ambush which did not materialize.

"Don't be too disappointed, Cody. I'm sure they'll think of something."

Why did he have to say it? No sooner had the jest been uttered than he sensed it: a rampaging fury blundering its way toward them, a brutish instict-driven whirl of pain and hunger.

"Watch out!" one of the clones warned, hearing the rumble of the impending stampede.

Not droids – animals. Immense, predatory beasts. Obi Wan crouched and gathered himself in the Force, as the monsters came barreling around the curve of the canyon, scattering troops like twigs in a hurricane. They were huge – swollen armor plated bodies, powerful clawed legs in back, tiny grasping limbs in front, their heads all gnashing jaws and small wicked eyes. They looked like a cross between a flea and a gundark.

A detail floated up from recent memory, a bit of information gleaned from his cursory study of Ryloth during transit to the system. _Guttkar, _ the database had said, _A native herd animal subsisting primarily by scavenging in the mountainous regions of the equatorial zone. Possessed of a normally gentle disposition, the guttkar indulges in aggressive behavior only during periods of famine._

Yes, well, apparently this would qualify as a period of famine. He sprang aside as one of the gentle scavengers lunged in for the kill, attempting to crush his bones it its slavering jaws. He rolled beneath the legs of the next beast to pounce forward at him. At least these sweet and affable creatures were stupid, he reflected; it was not difficult for him to evade each of their maddened assaults. Glancing up, however, he saw that Cody and his men were not faring so well. Two guttkar fought over the limp form of a fallen clone. The plastoid armor snapped in their teeth like the shell of a crustacean. The troops' sidearms were useless – blue bolts of energy glanced off the monsters' hide in every direction.

"Aim for the eyes!"

"Look out!"

"Fall back!"

Cody was pinned against a wall, futilely pumping blaster bolts into a hulking guttkar as it bore down upon him. Obi Wan reached for his saber, only to find that it _wasn't there._

"Blast!" He must have been knocked loose in the course of his evasive maneuvers. Good thing Anakin wasn't here to offer commentary.

He reached out a hand and felt for the guttkar's mind in the Force. It was a simple, frantic and confused point of heat. Oddly, he also sensed a dim web of connection between this beast and its fellows, Obi Wan exerted his own will: _come._ _Follow me,_ he thrust upon the creatures' awareness. And come they did, turning away from the clones and pacing steadily toward him, making a low purring growl in their throats. They advanced, and he retreated, struggling – but still succeeding – at keeping them all snared in the net of his influence. They followed him, he followed the prompting of the Force, in a weird parade. He backed slowly toward an adjacent side canyon, his new protégés stalking hypnotically in his wake.

"Incredible," Wooley muttered as he passed.

"Quiet, rookie," Cody snapped, no doubt anxious that _nothing_ break his General's concentration.

Obi Wan backed into the side canyon, nothing more than a narrow rift in the walls surmounted by an eroded arch of stone. It was a dead end, making a convenient natural corral. The guttkar followed him deep into its shadows, their dim suspicious minds beginning to rebel against his compulsion. Soon his control would break and they would peremptorily trample him.

"Shoot the bridge!" he called out hoarsely, barely able to issue the command and maintain his tenuous sway over the beasts.

Cody was ready. Well placed shots from the troops' heavy rifles lanced into the stone arch, cracking and disintegrating it. With a catastrophic rumble it collapsed into the canyon entrance, kicking up a blinding cloud of dust. The spell was instantly shattered. Enraged and panicking guttkar surged forward to destroy the puny human who had played the piper to them. Obi Wan jumped clear, running over the animals' backs, launching himself off the canyon walls as the guttkar snapped at his heels, and finally clearing the pile of rubble with a tremendous leap. The monsters, trapped and unable to reach him, roared and hissed in frustration.

* * *

><p>When the General practically dropped out of the sky to land crouching on feet and one hand next to him, Cody managed to not even flinch. He did overhear Wooley whisper an awe-struck expletive but decided to let it slide this time. He just handed the lightsaber back to the Jedi – it had been lying on the dusty street a short distance away.<p>

"Thank you Cody."

You would think he had just given the General a hanky, the casual way those words slipped out, but Cody knew better. That weapon was all but sacred to the Jedi.

A metallic scraping sound and a flicker of motion. A sewer grate shifted and began to open. The troops sighted down their rifles, and Kenobi flicked his weapon into life and swept back in a defensive stance. The grate slid aside to reveal a rectangle of darkness descending beneath street level.

"Don't shoot!" the General shouted, waving the men back and deactivating his lightsaber.

A moment later, two white helmeted heads appeared over the edge of the opening and two familiar figures climbed out into the late afternoon sunshine, snapping to attention at the sight of the commander.

Relief flooded through Cody, quickly succeeded by prickling irritation. "Waxer! Boil! Where have you two slackers been?"

The two scouts shuffled about nervously from foot to foot.

"There is an explanation, sir," Waxer insisted.

"We got sidetracked," Boil added quickly.

Up out of the open sewer grate climbed a third person, someone totally unexpected. A little girl – maybe four or five years old. Blue skin, long thin lekku hanging on either side of her head, grimy tunic and head cap. Her large, liquid brown eyes stared at them fearfully, and she ducked for cover behind Waxer's legs. Cody was wordless. This was not the kind of trouble he had been anticipating.

"I think I see what sidetracked you," the General commented sagely. He stepped forward a pace and dropped down to one knee. "Hello, little one," he addressed the tiny Twi'Lek.

She gasped and retreated further behind Waxer.

"She brought us through the tunnels," Boil explained. "Knows her way around them pretty good, sir."

Cody snorted inside his helmet. His best recon scouts had been playing hide and seek with a tail-head preschooler? _Just vaping fantastic._ But the General seemed intrigued by the clone's statement.

"Lo nallo jan wi'ello?" he tried again, keeping his voice soft and speaking in the girl's native tongue.

That seemed to do the trick. The small creature edged out form behind Waxer, face beaming with pleasure at hearing her own language. Eyes wide, she nodded enthusiastically. "Unee yanna yanna! Ma nerra!" she squeaked at Kenobi.

_And there you have it, _Cody thought, shaking his head. The Jedi was just plain full of surprises. He made a mental list of Kenobi's known talents: he could leave an impressive swath of destruction behind himself in a battle, move stuff with his mind, see things before they happened, play a _mean_ hand of sabaac, go without sleep for three days running (although you had to admit he got pretty snarky and irritable by the end), tame wild beasts, speak Twi"lek fluently, and who knew what else?

"The girl can lead us through the tunnels to the prisoners," the General translated. "Cody, we will need a diversion."


	8. Chapter 8

**Innocents of Ryloth**

* * *

><p><strong>Scene 8<strong>

_In the tunnel complex beneath the city of Nabat_

The girl's name was Numa. She was almost five years old. She had been separated from her family during the droid siege and had been living in the streets ever since, hiding in shadows and abandoned buildings, sleeping in the tunnels and scavenging for scraps. She was cold, lonely, sad, tired, and very very afraid. Obi Wan managed to gather this much from snatches of conversation with the girl as they made their way through the subterranean passages. He took the lead, and Numa rode in the crook of his arm, pointing the way confidently to the central plaza where her family and the other villagers were being held captive. A small escort of troops followed them, hushed and cautious.

"Na leeni tah fello lekku?" the child asked. _What happened to your headtails?_

"Ma humani. Ni fello tevi lekku." _I'm human. I never had any._

"Oh….tima ronu-eh," she said, stroking his cheek with a soft, pitying hand. _Oh, I'm so sorry for you._

He chuckled and the sound seemed to invite other inquiries. Are those _nerra_ behind us your family? ( _No…) _ Why are you wearing droid clothes? (_Did she mean armor?)_ What's that thing? (_The lightsaber.) _ What's this on your face? (_Twi'Lek males did not grow beards) _ Do you have any more food? (_Apparently Waxer and Boil had given her their dry rations) _ Do you have any children like me? No? Whyever not? (_Well, _that _ was complicated…)_

At length they emerged into what seemed to be a detention area, perhaps a jail in the basement of a courthouse. They were near the prisoners now – Obi Wan could feel the presence of the villagers, and also dark eddies of danger surrounding them in an invisible wall of malice. Numa pointed ahead, to a series of wide shallow steps leading up to the light. Late afternoon light spilled over the threshold and illumined the forms of two droid sentries inside the short passage. One stood guard while the other was inside one of the open cells, cleaning guttkar droppings off the floor with a broad brush.

_That has got to be the worst job in the entire droid army,_ Obi Wan thought idly as he sliced the sentry in half with his saber and used the Force to slam the cell door closed on the unfortunate second droid. It uttered an electronic moan, and Numa shrieked in delight at the proceedings.

"Inden cundina!" she exclaimed, pointing straight ahead. Obi Wan handed her to Sergeant Wheeze for safe-keeping.

"I'll take care of this. You keep her here," he ordered, and then took the stairs three at a time, crouching low in the doorway at their summit. He could make out the wide sunken enclosure of the courtyard, now being employed as a prison pit. Scores of Twi'Leks were held captive within it, guarded by numerous sentinels, both standard and super battle droids. The heavy cannon stood in a ring around the hostages – six massive artillery pieces, with meter-long rounds stacked neatly beside them. On the opposite side of the plaza, a flat headed tactical droid sat atop another assault tank.

That droid was expecting a cunning trick, not frontal assault. Time to prove him wrong. A quick signal to Cody on the closed frequency comlink and he sprang forward into the open, followed by three hand picked clones.

He had met and destroyed five droids in his headlong rush to the captives before their processors could catch up. By then, Cody and his men had rushed the courtyard from a different direction, opening up with everything they had. The droids' comparative threat assessment programming honed in on Cody's group, mistakenly concluding that a full squad of soldiers with blaster weapons was a more pressing problem than a lone madman with a single blade. The droid forces rushed to engage Cody, and Obi Wan leaped into the central pit, neatly severing two more droids and flipping his saber into a reverse grip to cut the binders from the prisoner after prisoner. Waxer and Boil gunned down the remaining droid guards while the Twi'Leks looked on with disbelief and wild hope flickering over their faces.

A group of super battle units descended on Cody's group, showering them with heavy fire from the heavy weapons built into their arms. The clone commander ordered a retreat, and the droids pursued, intent and mindless in their narrow objective.

"The Jedi is freeing the prioners!" a single, unusually perceptive droid called out a few paces away. Obi Wan privately congratulated it for its astute analysis of the situation, and then slammed his 'saber down on its headplate, carving it into two halves all the way down to its legs.

"Waxer! Boil! Come with me!" he shouted, and led the way to the nearest cannon.

We're with you, sir!"

Obi Wan reached the cannon first and swept through the two droids guarding it with his saber. He flung the droid occupying the operator's seat across the courtyard, not bothering to moderate his Force push. The unfortunate projectile careened into a wall far distant. In an instant, Obi Wan was at the controls, moving the targeting icon onto the other cannon.

Waxer and Boil grunted as they heaved the first round into the loading chamber. "Ready, General!"

With a bone-shaking explosion, cannon Aurek 1 and Aurek 2 shuddered and went up in flames. The clones struggled to load another round, and Obi Wan intently shifted his weapon to target Aurek 4. The droids were scrambling to respond; their limited programming did not comprehend an attack from their own long-distance artillery. Aurek 4 exploded in a brilliant plume of heat and flame, and then Aurek 5. Only one more cannon remained, besides his hijacked one.

But his time was up. The tactical droid had figured out what its counterparts could not, and had aimed the muzzle of the ground assault tank directly at the Jedi. Waxer and Boil ran for cover. Obi Wan felt the surge of warning in the Force and jumped as far clear as he could.

The shock wave still sent him tumbling in mid-air and a hard bit of shrapnel caught him squarely in the chest, slamming into the breastplate Anakin had designed and made. He dropped to the ground heavily, winded and bruised, and groggily raised himself on one arm, shaking his head to clear it.

A pattering of small feet by his side and a small voice urgently crying. "Nerra? Nerra!" Numa's small blue hands were on his shoulder, nudging him to get up, move. Half stunned, he barely registered her presence.

A shadow fell across them.

The assault tank loomed above, long muzzle of its cannon trained on him at point blank range. From the top hatch the boxy head and torso of the tactical droid emerged.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha. You lose, General Kenobi,"it taunted in its flat, synthesized voice.

Obi Wan flung a protective arm around Numa, waited for the cannon blast.

It never came. From out of the safety of the tunnels the Twi'lek villagers came pouring, fists waving and throats giving voice to terrible war cries. They swarmed over the tank and overwhelmed the tactical droid, pounding and ripping at it with wild abandon, vengeance and dark emotions roiling off them like searing heat. The droid's last words before its head was torn loose from its socket were, "Does not compute! Does not compute!"

Obi Wan placed a hand over Numa's eyes, unwilling that a child should stand witness to such a savage display, however justly provoked. He stood, half in shock himself, as the former hostages reduced their erstwhile oppressor to scrap.

The battle was won.


	9. Chapter 9

**Innocents of Ryloth**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Scene 9<strong>_

_The newly liberated city of Nabat. Night._

Commander Cody glanced up at the black skies of Ryloth, at the pale disks of its three visible moons, and watched as the last of the Republic cruisers hummed overhead, on its way to land in the plains to the northwest of Nabat. General Windu had sent the first wave of the fleet in practically before the battle had been won, as though he had foreseen its outcome. And maybe he had. Cody shrugged – there was no figuring a Jedi master.

Ghost Company was engaged in providing immediate relief to the people of Nabat. Food and med supplies had to be distributed and a few emergency shelters erected. His men would work in shifts, taking turns sleeping and assisting the Nabat leadership in reestablishing some semblance of normal civilian life. By morning, they would be ready to march again.

Cody walked briskly into the largest of the shelters, where a soup line had been set up and sleeping cots arranged in neat rows. Power generators protected against the night chill. Everywhere within, Twi"lek voices talked and shouted, laughed and sang. He craned his head about, seeking the General amid all the tail-head hustle and bustle.

There he was. Right in the middle of a tight knot of village elders and other prominent members of the Nabat community, locked in earnest conversation. Numa was there, too, happily perched on the shoulders of a male relative. So that was all right, then. At least the kid got part of her family back. She wouldn't be one of the millions of war orphans scattered throughout the galaxy now.

Kenobi shook his head gently – a firm "no" to some request, and then shook it again. Cody pushed through the crowd. The tail-heads were pleading, urging the Jedi to do something or other. The clone commander couldn't make out anything of their language, but he recognized the tone of their voices, the wheedling, cajoling way they spoke. Good luck, he snorted. Kenobi was about the stubbornest son of a – he did a double take and stopped in his tracks, a few paces away. The whole group had taken seats in a semicircle around the Jedi, who gave one of those wry half smiles of his and started singing. Yes, by hell's sweet moons: singing. Some Twi'Lek song, a sort of soft lilting chant.

_Valeh nerra valeh, chumma tu duenni ma veyah oni_

_Pleena ta falla, veyah do sallah_

_Qui ja wah uni, veyah yarhumi_

_To mal yahn'we mah, veyah hawee'I_

_Valeh nerra ma valeh._

That got the tail-heads murmuring and nodding and clapping, all right. Cody was hanged if he got a word of it. But he added "passable singing voice" to his list of the General's odd abilities. Kenobi extricated himself from the enthusiastic Twi'leks before they could demand an encore, and found Cody in the crowd.

"The last cruisers just landed, sir."

"Thank you, Cody. I had better meet with General Windu."

"Ah…General. If you don't mind. What was all that in the song back there?" He thought maybe the Jedi flushed just slightly, but it was hard to tell in the dim light.

"It's a traditional song of blessing, actually."

"I didn't know you had it in you, sir," Cody remarked. In fact, he didn't know what to think at all. They didn't teach music on Kamino.

Kenobi just gave him the strangest look and kept walking, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head and face as he disappeared into the darkness outside the shelter.

* * *

><p>In the plains outside Nabat, Republic cruisers disgorged the heavy ground assault vehicles and battalions of troops. There was far more to be accomplished before Ryloth was free. Dawn had just broken over the horizon.<p>

"Great job getting rid of those cannon," Mace Windu said in a rare moment of informal and heartfelt praise. He had been debriefed on the mission already via hologram, but had not yet had a private moment in which to speak to his fellow General. His congratulations were offered to an equal and a friend. ObI Wan had the sense not to respond. Jedi did not indulge in sentiment or needless words – to remark on the compliment would be to belittle it.

"Now we have a more difficult objective," Mace continued, shifting back to a cool, detached manner. "We must take the capitol city and free this world." He would personally lead the attack on the capitol, held by Watt Tambor himself. ObI Wan would simultaneously strike at the supply lines in the southern deserts. Anakin still patrolled local space, repelling any would-be reinforcements. Together the three Jedi held the fate of the planet in their hands.

Mace moved away to coordinate the provisioning of the troops under his command. Obi Wan took a moment to observe Ghost Company's last exchange with Numa and her people. The small girl ran to embrace one of the clones, and then waved in farewell as the men gathered their equipment and marched away to join their larger battalion.

"Nerra! Nerra!" her high clear voice rang out over the plain.

Cody and his men fell into step behind Obi Wan, on route to a gunship that would ferry them to their southerly destination. The Jedi felt a pang of pity or sorrow, and let it pass through him without resentment or attachment. Numa had her place here among her people; and he had his place, rooted in the Living Force. She belonged somewhere and he everywhere. But where did Cody and his men call home? They belonged…nowhere. They were rootless. All they had to center themselves in the universe was each other's company. But perhaps that was enough. A true comrade was a gift beyond measuring. What would the clones do without each other? What, for that matter, would he do without Anakin? What would anyone at all do without at least one steadfast friend?

"Sir, what is that she keeps calling us?" Cody wanted to know.

"Nerra," he said after a moment. "It means _brother."_

_FINIS_


End file.
